


The Family Tree

by Small_Hobbit



Series: The Unexpected Family [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-07-23
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:44:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy (now aged 12) has a school project to look into part of her family tree.  This prompts William (aged 11) to want to know more about his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Family Tree

“We’ve just started doing a project around our family tree in school,” Lucy announced as they were eating tea one day.  “I asked Miss Grayson and she said I could either do something about one of your families, _if_ you’ve got any interesting ancestors, or I could use my birth family.  What do you think?”

“I’m sure Uncle Mycroft could find you some interesting Holmes’ ancestors if you wanted some,” Greg replied.

Sherlock was trying not to choke whilst laughing at the idea of his brother being horrified that anyone could think his ancestors weren’t worth knowing about.

Finally he controlled himself.  “Does this project need to take any particular format?”

“No, we can do what we like, although there’s supposed to be a written report and if possible some illustration.  Miss Grayson said that if, say, we were writing about a relation who was a Suffragette and we didn’t have a picture of our relation, then we could include a general picture of a group of Suffragettes.”

“If you want to write about your birth family, then you could use the information in your box.  You can always scan some of the documents and pictures if you wished to make use of them.”

“That would be good.  Would you be able to help me?”

“Of course we would,” Greg smiled at the enthusiasm that Lucy always showed once she was engaged with something.

“I wish I had a box like Lucy does,” William said suddenly.

Lucy’s box contained photos of her as a small baby, both on her own and with her parents.  There were photos of her parents’ wedding, together with a couple of them showing her grandparents.  In addition, there were printouts of reports of events her parents had been involved in, together with a few cards for various occasions.  Sherlock had wanted to include a copy of the report regarding her parents’ fatal accident, but Greg had forbidden it, saying that whilst she was aware of how they had died, reading about it on her own would not be a good idea.

There was nothing similar for William.

Greg looked across at his husband.  This was something they had been anticipating for some time, but had never really been prepared for.

“I’ll speak to Uncle Mycroft, and see what he can find for you,” Sherlock told his son.

***

A few days later, Sherlock received a phone call from his brother.

“I have been informed that there have been enquiries into a sensitive matter originating from your IP address.  I would be grateful if you would desist.”

“If you say so,” Sherlock tried to sound as sulky as possible to distract Mycroft from his slight hesitation.  He doubted that he would have succeeded.

He hadn’t been the one making the enquiries.  It was unlikely to have been his husband, who would use the computers at work if there was any likelihood that the security services were involved.  Lucy had decided to write a short biography of her mother for her school project and had been researching the area she had lived in as a child.  Sherlock doubted that the activities of a schoolgirl in a Warwickshire market town would have triggered an alert, so that left William.  He resolved to speak to his son that evening.

***

He waited until Lucy was watching the latest episode of something entirely trivial that “everybody in my class watches” before he went to see William.

“I gather you’ve been doing some research, Will.”

“Yes, I thought I’d have a go at finding something out about my parents.”

“Right.  Where did you start?”

“First of all, it was clear that neither you nor Dad knew much.  You’ve always told us everything and even when Lucy wanted to see where her parents’ ashes were and Dad didn’t think it was a good idea, he still took her.  So, I knew you didn’t have much.”

Sherlock nodded in agreement.

“You would have collected what you could, as you did for Lucy.”

Sherlock started to say something, but William interrupted.

“It’s okay.  I’m glad Lucy has her box, but it would be nice to have something to put in my own.”

“That’s understandable.  So what did you do?”

“I knew what my mother was called, because I’ve seen my birth certificate.  I thought I’d search for her death certificate, since she died soon after I was born.”

“Right.”  This seemed like a logical starting point to Sherlock and he couldn’t see why that should have caused a problem.

“I couldn’t find one.  At first I thought that perhaps she hadn’t really died.  But then I thought about what Uncle Mycroft had said at Easter.  He said that she was dead before I was adopted.”

“But he’s never given us any more details,” Sherlock was impressed with his son’s logic.

It was William’s turn to nod.  “So I started to look a bit more.  To do what Dad calls ‘widen the net.’  I used your methods to look at the hospital records.”

Sherlock felt a twinge of guilt that his son had started to employ slightly less than legal methods to find out things he wanted to know, but that was rapidly overtaken by pride at his obvious ability.

“I couldn’t find anything about my mother, but I did find a few references about someone with a similar name.  My mother was Stacey Miller; the records had Anastasia Melnyk.  ‘Melnyk’ means ‘Miller’ in Ukrainian.  I did a general search on Anastasia Melnyk, and her name came up in a couple of boring looking reports, but I couldn’t find anything more.  And I’m not sure what to do next.”

Sherlock sent a rapid text to Mycroft saying simply <Anastasia Melnyk>.

He wasn’t surprised when his phone rang shortly afterwards.  He spoke to his brother for a few minutes before saying to William, “We’re going to see Uncle Mycroft on Saturday.  He has asked that you make no more enquiries until we’ve seen him.”

William didn’t seem too surprised and promptly asked his father if they had time for a game of chess.

***

Once Greg got home, Sherlock filled his husband in with the details.  “Mycroft thinks it would be best if you were there, too; but given the situation he suggested he ask Anthea to occupy Lucy.  I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“No, she won’t take kindly to that.  But give me a few minutes and I might be able to find a better solution.”

About ten minutes later, Greg was back.  “All sorted.  Lucy’s going to a film with some of her netball team.  One of the mums will take her and then she can get the tube straight to Mycroft’s afterwards, so we can have tea together.”

***

Saturday afternoon, having dropped Lucy off at her friend’s home (Greg spent a lot of time chauffeuring the netball team around, so there was no problem with reciprocal help), the three of them went to Mycroft’s house.

He greeted them warmly, “Come into the drawing room.  I’ve got something to show you, William.”

Once they were seated, Mycroft gave William a photocopied sheet.  “You will need to return this to me once you have read it.  One day I shall be able to give you the original.”

“You mean, once I’m old enough,” William’s voice showed the hurt he felt at the comment.

“No.  If you are old enough to read it, you are old enough to own it.  However, as you will understand once you have read it, there are other implications.”

William nodded and turned to the piece of paper.

_My Dearest Son,_

_Mr Holmes has suggested I write this letter because it may be that you will have no other remembrance of me._

_As you will know from your birth certificate, my name is Stacey Miller.  I have worked for Mr Holmes for a number of years now and have, I believe, always provided a good service.  I never expected this to change, but on my last assignment I became acquainted with a man named Maksym, with whom I began to build a relationship.  This would have been acceptable to both our employers had we not also fallen in love._

_We were both aware of the risks we were running, but neither of us was willing to pull back.  We knew that we were both under surveillance and were anticipating that we would soon be redeployed when I discovered that I was pregnant.  The idea that we should not be able to bring up our child together was abhorrent and Maksym therefore arranged for me to go and live with an aunt of his in a remote village, where I should be safe and there was little chance of questions being asked.  Maksym was able to visit every few weeks and we planned that in a year or two we would begin a new life as a couple._

_Facilities in the village were limited, but I was not worried, for Maksym’s cousin had two young children and she had had no trouble with their births.  But then I became ill and realised that my pregnancy was not going smoothly.  I grew afraid for the safety of my child and in desperation, contacted Mr Holmes._

_He arranged for me to be brought back into the UK so that I could give birth in a hospital with all the necessary facilities.  And it is here that I have brought you safely into the world._

_I cannot remain in this country.  I shall be returning to the village I now call home in a few days time.  It is not at all certain that I will live; there have been complications which the surgeons have been unable to prevent. Mr Holmes has promised that if I survive the next few weeks he will arrange for you to join me; if not, he will take care of you.  I do not doubt his word._

_I have nothing more to say, except to wish a loving family to take care of you,_

_With All My Love To You_

_Your Ever-loving Mother_

William handed the letter back to Mycroft.

“Would you like Papa and Dad to read it?” Mycroft asked.

The boy nodded and Mycroft passed the copy over.  They read in silence, with the occasional glance at William.  He was so composed that Greg began to worry.  Once they had finished reading and handed the letter back to Mycroft, William spoke.

“Thank you.  I’m glad I know where I come from.”

“You understand you cannot tell other people about this.  If you wish to tell Lucy, you may do so, because she will understand that the knowledge must go no further than your immediate family.  And please, do not try to find out more about your parents at this time.  In the future, there may be more information, but not now.”

 “I understand.  May I ask one question?”

“Yes.”

“Is my father really called Maksym?”

“It is a common Ukrainian name.”

“That’s what I thought.”

William continued to look thoughtful for a few minutes and then his expression brightened.

“Lucy will be here soon and then it will be time for tea.  What sorts of cake have you got for us this week, Uncle Mycroft?”

 


End file.
